


'39

by AlterEgon



Category: '39 - Queen (Song)
Genre: Gen, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlterEgon/pseuds/AlterEgon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world all but destroyed by its inhabitants, a brave crew of twenty men and women sets out to find a new home for their community.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gryffens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryffens/gifts), [Starlingthefool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlingthefool/gifts), [gollumgollum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gollumgollum/gifts).



> Dear Recipients,  
> Please share this treat. You surely all deserved to get one, and it I fear the song, great as it is, does not offer quite enough material for a single author to write three individual fics. 
> 
> I hope that you like this take on the story behind '39!

Stephen glanced up at the sky worriedly. Another day without any real weather to speak of – unless you wanted to call the unrelenting glare of the sun, scorching the earth and blistering the skin of anyone who dared leave the sheltering domes weather, that was. He tried to remember the last time he had seen a cloud. That must have been…

Months ago, at least.

Truth be told, this day was particularly bad, even as days generally went at the moment. Even under the tinted dome, the heat was almost a tangible thing, the carefully rationed daily allotment of water flowing from the dispensers stale by the time it hit the cup. It had also looked more cloudy to him this morning than it should have, he thought. Signs that the filters were breaking down again, letting contamination that did not belong there get into their precious drinking water. It was getting harder to replace the filters with every year that went by, every hive that died.

When everyone had finally had to agree that the damage done to the planet's climate and ozone layer was irreversible, rendering those parts of it not carefully controlled and conditioned by technology increasingly uninhabitable, people had flocked into the first domed cities, built under shields to keep out the potentially deadly solar radiation. Initially, it had worked, but soon other problems had started to appear. Domes were made smaller, room sacrificed for better protection, easier environmental control. Restrictions were increased.

Having read books about times long gone by, he tried to imagine the world as it had been a couple hundred years ago, full of animal and plant life, rivers that flowed into seas rich with fish, the sun welcomed rather than feared.

People living at a distance from each other, everyone claiming their own piece of land or space within a building, supposedly several rooms' worth of it even.

It was hard to imagine that solitude of 'privacy' that the hives had no place for.

There was barely enough room here for everyone to claim a bed. Privacy was what you found when you managed to secure a double bunk with a curtain for yourself and your partner for a night's pleasure. If you weren't entirely selfish, you moved back to where you usually slept after that, giving someone else a go at the double.

Things were still growing worse. With the natural resources all but gone, the carefully lit, carefully watered underground and underwater farms depended entirely on functional technology to thrive. Even a single failed part could render an entire harvest useless.

Failed harvests were almost impossible to replace. No hive grew much more than they needed to feed their own. That was a luxury mankind had once engaged in, back before space to be used had become a rare treasure. In the attempt to find a balance between growing enough to keep the population fed while still having the room needed for other things – and a community had any number of things that it needed, after all – the limits of how much excess could be produced were often set so close that a failed harvest was likely, if not certain, to lead to famine in the hive. The dead could not repair or build. Maybe once, in a world where technology had been simpler, someone else could have jumped in and figured it out. These days, if you had no one left who was trained to do a certain task, you were screwed.

Jealously as each hive guarded its resources, cooperation between them was rare.

His eyes wandered to the desert outside the dome, where two artificial structures stood on the barren, cracked ground: one of them was large, even towering over the dome. The other, though shaped identically, much smaller. Side by side, they looked like a huge artificial creature and its cub.

Several years ago, the previously unthinkable had happened: several hives had teamed up for the good of all involved. Throwing together all the technical expertise they could muster, pooling their resources and labor forces, they had built the two vessels, one a small, fast explorer, just enough to hold a crew of twenty – the minimum number of men and women they had been able to agree on to undertake this kind of mission successfully – the other huge, intended for transporting most of the hives' inhabitants. Fuelling it up would deplete their stores entirely, and so the leviathan had to sit and wait, unable to move, until its dwarf sister returned.

Ever since the theory of avoiding the greater obstacles of conventional physics to long-distance space travel had been developed, some hive or another that had managed to acquire the information somehow had tried to build a ship to leave this doomed world behind. If any had succeeded, they had managed to keep it secret. Failures, in contrast, were known, most of them almost or entirely having destroyed the hive due to a lack of resources, fuel or, in one case, the spacecraft exploding just after lifting off.

Never before, to his knowledge, had a cooperation of several hives been attempted.

His pulse sped up as he thought of the journey before him. He was one of the twenty chosen, responsible for handling the communications devices on board of the scout. Once they found a suitable world among the list of candidates that had been determined for them, once his wife had run the atmospheric analysis, once other crew members had deemed the climate stable enough, the flora and fauna capable of sustaining their bodies on the new world, he would be the one who would send back the good news.

Of course, he would have to report every failure before that, too.

He had volunteered for the job. They all had. He didn't know why the others had chosen to, but he and his wife and done it mainly because they _could_. They could count the number of times that they had been given the choice to do or not do anything on their hands and have plenty of fingers left over.

They met the requirements. They were within the required age range, they had no children, they were in good physical condition and they had jobs that were considered useful for the project. When the volunteers were picked, those couple where both members could be of use had been preferred. The idea was that there was less of a risk that separation from the close-knit community of the larger hive would become an insurmountable obstacle on the way if you had your mate with you.

The fact that this could very easily become a suicide mission did not change their decision.

They were facing the risk of deterioration of the hive and death of everyone here all the time.

Who cared that they were going to be given only the bare minimum of fuel to go to the thirty potential worlds on their list? If they found none suitable for colonization, they would most likely not make it back. The hives would have twenty mouths less to feed.

To be honest, he didn't think he even wanted to return if they failed. He did not want to be one of those who had wasted lots of precious resources chasing a dream.


	2. Chapter 2

Larry returned from his inspection of the scout. He had left just after completing his last pre-launch medical checkup and been out longer than he had expected, but the readings had been too bad. Leaving the vessel to return to the dome would have been risky even with the sunsuit he wore.

The last thing he wanted was to be rendered unfit to go on the mission. The last thing everyone else needed was to have to replace him on short notice.

He was going to be the captain, responsible for organizing life on board.

He didn't know how it would work out, having people from different hives together in the confines of that ship. He hoped that their common goal would make it easier on all of them.

Maybe it would not be that bad. No one would be completely alone among strangers.

When choosing their volunteers, they had taken care to pick as many couples as they could, making sure that most of them actually would have their mate on board.

Having Elizabeth with him would certainly help him.

He hoped that everyone else would feel the same.

The hatch hissed shut behind him, and he stepped into the slightly cooler, barely more comfortable environment inside the dome with relief. Even at dusk, the air outside was stifling, almost so dry that it hurt to breathe.

Everyone else must have been at dinner by now, crowding the large underground hall where they were served their precisely portioned meals. He contemplated going down now and standing in line for who knew how long, or lingering a little longer and going when the queues would have thinned out a little.

The decision was made for him when, as he approached the hive entrance, he saw the slim, dark shape outside it.

"Elizabeth," he said in surprise. "Beth. What is it? What's wrong?"

His wife's usually rich auburn curls hung limply around her face in the still air. The circulation systems would not start up before the sun was fully down, after all. Her posture suggested uncertain apprehension, while her face was stonily set to betray little emotion.

He reached out for her, holding out a hand for a fleeting, comforting touch on her arm, and she closed the distance between them and sank against his chest in one fluid movement.

He held her there, wondering what had happened. For a few minutes that drew out and lengthened, he merely stood there, his cheek against her curls, as she clung to him as if he was the last thing that could save her from being blown away by the deadly desert storms.

"Has something happened?" he asked eventually, mentally kicking himself for the incredibly stupid question as soon as the words had left his mouth. Of course something must have happened.

The question was: what?

She looked up at him, blue eyes wide but dry. "No. Yes," she said, shaking her head, then adjusting herself against his broader frame. "I don't know. I –  Yes, I guess something has happened."

With a deep breath, she pushed away from him, away from the strong arms that held her and stroked her back trying to convey comfort against this unknown thing that had happened while he had been out.

"I'm not going to be scouting with you," she told him.

"Beth!" Icy shock shot through him. The pre-launch check-up. They had given her the same examination that he had just completed and they had found something that rendered her unfit to go into space. If that was what had happened…

She almost laughed at his expression, an unsteady, nervous sound. "No," she said. "Not … not what you think. But Larry… By the time you come back there'll probably be three of us."

Three. The word took a moment to sink in.

When it did, he stepped forward again, grasping her in his arms again and lifting her off her feet, swinging her around with a yelp of joy. Children were an increasingly rare thing these days, and always reason for celebration. The environmental conditions, the constant strain of the unstable climate, the toxic air outside the hives that almost everyone had to expose themselves to now and then – it all made reproduction a lot less likely than it had once been.

This was another thing they were hoping to change on a new world.

"I think Hilary will take my place," she said when he let her down again. "She was the next botanist in line." A hint of sadness in her voice suggested that the joy that she surely shared over the new life they had created together did not entirely cancel out the disappointment that she would not be on the ship when it first reached their new home, wherever that would be. Elizabeth was not a woman who limited herself to the role of a waiter and watcher easily.

Wordlessly, he put his arm around her shoulders and turned towards the door with her. If they didn't go down soon, there would be no more food for them tonight.

"Larry?" Elizabeth said as they stepped into the elevator.

He pulled her a little closer. "Hm?"

"Try to get back quickly."


	3. Chapter 3

The launch had gone well. Life on board of the scout vessel was not that different from life in the hives. With carefully controlled ambience conditions, they lacked no comfort that they knew from home. Space was not an issue either. In fact, the ship was downright spacious for the twenty volunteers used to hive life.

The drive, untested on flights this long, had kept its promises so far. They had approached the first set of coordinates on their list with excitement and cheers, and left it again in deep disappointment to prepare for the jump to the next one.

Stephen reported the second one as unsuitable as well. He got the impression that the return message from home sounded a little more strained than the first one. What had they expected? They didn't have an itinerary of thirty planets because they loved to travel through space after all! Finding a new home for their people had never been supposed to be a mission accomplished right on the first attempt.

He was sitting at his station in the command room, an eye on the comm center and most of his attention on the screen, watching the patterns of gleaming stars projected there to give them an idea of where they were in relation to their route. Their home planet, as well as those they had visited and were still to visit, were marked.

The sudden sound of an alarm made him wince and jerk up.

"What is it?" he heard Captain Larry bark vaguely in the direction of their navigator. "John?"

"Nothing I did," came the answer between the frantic clicking of buttons pushed and the swish of fingers on the touchpad surface. "Something in front of us," he announced after a moment, as if they hadn't all been able to see that – a writhing, flashing red spot on the screen that was coming continually closer.

"I've never seen anything like that before," Brian's voice came from somewhere behind him. The astrophysicist was punching buttons as well, trying to make sense of his readings.

Looks like we'll be going right through it, Stephen thought as he watched the changing display with an unlikely mixture of horror, excitement and numbness.

The captain must have had the same thought. "Evade!"

John stared at him blankly, without entering any course corrections at all. "At our speed? With the jump drive on? That's madness! We'd tear the ship apart for sure!"

Looks were exchanged, growing increasingly frantic.

"Then what do you suggest?" If that had been intended as a calm question, it had failed miserably. The captain had all but shouted it into the room.

It took a moment before anyone dared answer. Finally, it was the navigator again, still punching buttons. "We can't slow down enough in time. We have to go right through."

"Hold on!" someone called out as the little symbol indicating their ship slammed into the unknown shape on the display only moments later.

Out of reflex, Stephen grabbed at the sides of his seat, only to realize that it had been entirely unnecessary.

Nothing at all happened. The little ship on the screen crossed the redness and went right on along its pre-programmed course. The shape flickered and died behind them.

"Whatever that was, it's gone," Brian announced.

"Whatever that was, it was really anticlimactic," John pointed out.

Stephen was not so sure when he turned back to his displays and saw a light missing there.

He punched a few buttons, quickly.

"Whatever that was," he announced then, "It blew our comm-station."

Standing from his chair, the captain came over to check it himself. As if he had any idea of how to fix a comm panel!

*

Of course he had tried to find the problem. When no amount of pushing of buttons would bring back contact with their home station, he called up Roger, their technician.

The curly-haired man expertly unlatched the panel housing's front and examined the insides, an increasingly concerned look on his face. "Nothing I can fix," he finally said and closed up the opening again. "I'm sorry. We'll have to turn around and get this taken care of back home."

"We cannot do that," the captain said decisively. "If we turn around now, they'll never consent to letting us have another go at this. We only get this one chance."

He paced the control room for a while, eventually standing in the space between the operator consoles, his hands clasped behind his back. He looked as if he was staring out over the railing of one of the ships that, according to the old books, had once sailed the oceans of their planet before they had become deadly traps for anyone fool enough to venture onto them.

"We will go on," he announced. "We have only been to two planets, and the next three candidates are even within the same system. We will go on at least while we still have enough fuel to go back and inform them once we find something."

No one argued. At least not out loud.

"Stephen," the technician said as he turned to the door. "With the comm station not working you're not needed here. Come along if you don't mind – I can use your help elsewhere."

He glanced at the captain, who nodded and waved him off with a resigned look in his eyes.

The door closed behind them with a hiss, sealing the control room from the hallway as effectively as they would have sealed a dome off from the desert air.

The two men glanced at each other, then away again, both hesitating to speak as if saying something bad might make it real.

"There's nothing wrong with the station, is there?" Stephen asked finally.

"No," the technician told him. "Nothing at all."

Stephen closed his eyes, contemplating possible explanations for what had happened.

As Roger started walking down the corridor towards the technical department, he followed quickly. "Did you really have something for me to do or did you just need someone to confide in?"

"I do have work for you," the other man said. They walked in silence until they rounded the next bend. "What are you going to tell them later?"

He considered that. "Nothing," he finally decided. "Whatever happened there, we can’t change it either by turning back now or by fretting about it."


	4. Chapter 4

They neared their destination, all ready at their posts for the first analyses while the all-too-long deceleration process was initiated. This system had three planets that were a potential new home for them – as far as they had been able to tell back at home.

It became clear quickly that two of them looked far less suitable up close than they had from the distance.

The last, however, the third planet in the system, was a small, water-rich world with vast forests and good air.

They spent another day on the ship, running their examinations from orbit as they slowly, carefully started to keep an eye out for a good place to touch down. They did so secretly, as if saying it aloud would ruin the opportunity, cause them to find something that would make life here impossible for them.

Finally, on the third day after their arrival in the system, the command was given, and the spacecraft went down, dropping through the atmosphere and finally settling in a large meadow.

They emerged carefully, scanners out, taking tentative breaths as if they did not quite trust their readings, which said that they had nothing to fear.

The air smelled strange and it felt stranger still on their faces. This was fresh air, not processed by machines, rich in odors coming from the multitude of unknown plants that looked so different from those carefully preserved and kept in their conservatories at home. The field they were in was split by a small stream, water clear enough to see the bottom. Had their own world had such water once, before the poisoning of everything had turned it a murky yellowish brown, the color reflecting the deadliness of the liquid?

"Don't!" Larry yelled as he saw one of his crewmembers kneel by the edge of it and lift some of the water to his mouth in his cupped palm.

The man – Louis, Larry reminded himself, his name was Louis. He needed to finally rid himself of the habit of thinking of everyone not from his own hive merely by using the designation of their positions in the crew – sipped from the water, then looked up at him with a grin, indicating the scanner that hung from his belt with one wet hand. "It's perfectly fine," he said. "And delicious."

"I don't want you to risk anything…" The captain pointed out, but he realized that it was a moot point, really. If there were things that their scanners did not pick up, they could be in the air, the ground, the grass they walked on… the _rain_. Maybe they would see rain.

A small creature with multicolored wings flew past him, apparently not bothered by their presence at all.

He realized that there were sounds now, even though it had been utterly silent when they had first left the ship. What a strange place.

"This is beautiful!" another man called out, shaking out wet curls after immersing his whole head in the stream. He pointed, laughing, and the others followed his outstretched finger to where an animal was almost standing still in the water, but with fins in motion unceasingly to keep itself in place in spite of the current.

It didn't look all that different from the fish they kept in carefully filtered tanks back home – somewhat different in size and color, but the general body structure was the same, as if it was quite simply the logical way for a creature living underwater to evolve.

Looking around, however, they could see other animals that bore no resemblance to anything they had ever seen in their small menageries or even the books and videos that they had about times long gone.

The wind picked up, bringing a coolness that was as welcome as it was strange. This was not a cutting desert wind full of dust and sand that would kill anyone caught in it without shelter.

He turned, seeing that most of the crew were busy bringing things from the ship, setting up outdoor shelters for themselves from where they would continue their studies.

Mona, their biologist, was walking over to them, a broad grin on her dark-complexioned face, her hair, though held back in a ponytail, caressed by the breeze, eyes alight with wonder and joy.

Suddenly, she froze, her face turning stony with shocked surprise as she stared at a point on the other side of the water.

The three men by the banks turned, slowly, not at all sure what to expect.

This world probably had predators, large fierce animals ready to kill them, long extinct on their own world – that was what Larry would have expected, even though he had no idea how he would even recognize one on this strange world.

What he had not expected was that there, well within shouting distance, creatures were separating themselves from the edge of the forest. If they were animals, they could best be described as simian. However, his brain refused to stick the label on them. They were walking on their hind legs, heads held up proudly and hands free for use. Free to carry sticks, bits of stone lashed to wooden handles, sacks made of a furry material. Their scantily furred bodies were covered in the furs of other animals as if they were just beginning to learn the finer points of making clothing.

These beings with their rough-hewn features, broad noses and fleeing foreheads, must have been this world’s equivalent of humans.

For a long, tense moment, they stood, staring at the strangers who had landed in the meadow on the other side of the river with the same rapt astonishment that they were feeling. Then, one by one, they faded back into the trees, maintaining a distance rather than risking an approach.

"So we're not alone here," Mona said, her smile slowly returning.

Larry nodded. "Apparently." Turning to walk back to the ship, he set his face in a determined mask. They were here to stay. If there was another sentient species here that was about to claim this world as theirs, they had better deal, because no matter what, they were not going to go away again.

*

Larry looked back out over the camp. They had set up the light-weight structures they had brought, run their tests and analyses carefully and checked and rechecked their results.

Eventually, the answer had been crystal-clear. This was the place where they would stay. This was the place that they would bring everyone else to.

Most of the crew – everyone not directly needed to operate the scout – would stay right here and start to build their first settlement on this new, almost untouched world.

They had been here for a few weeks. A couple of days into their stay, Freddy and his mate Louis had not returned to the ship at night but showed up again the next morning with expressions that clearly stated that they had made good use of the newfound option of having a whole night's worth of _privacy_ without needing to be done in time for the next reservation.

After that, the other couples on board had also found places to stay, away from the cramped cabins with their narrow single bunk beds.

He couldn't even begin to put into words how much he missed Elizabeth. She must have given birth by now if nothing had gone wrong. Of course there were so many things that could have, even though everything had still been fine at the time their comm system had gone dead.

Still, he would not sleep easily until he was back home, holding her and, hopefully, their perfect little child, in his arms.

Turning slowly, he glanced out over the river one last time. The strange, primitive natives had appeared a few times, venturing a little closer each time as if slowly getting curious about these strange creatures that had fallen from the sky.

They had gone to the effort of capturing one – a young female who had regarded them more with cautious curiosity than fear. They had let her return to her tribe after taking a few small samples for analysis.

The results were encouraging. Though he could not fathom why they might ever want to do such a thing, it appeared that with a little genetic tweaking, they might even be able to reproduce with these aliens. Well, maybe, if their numbers dwindled and they were unable to maintain a sensible population size due to the damage done to them by their home environment, they might grow desperate enough to try. He shuddered at the thought.

Slowly, he returned into the scout, taking his place among the crew. Someone had left a bowl of juicy red berries in the control room, a luxury unknown at home. The abundance of edible plants and animals was nothing short of stunning.

The door behind him hissed, and he turned to face whoever had come in behind him. To his surprise, he saw Stephen, the now-unnecessary comm officer. He looked decidedly uneasy.

"Captain."

He acknowledged the greeting with a nod, then waited to see if the other man would go on.

Stephen took a deep breath, as if he had something hard to say.

"I have a confession to make," he finally said.

"Confessions are a thing from times long gone by and dead," Larry pointed out. "If you have something to tell me, just do so."

The other man stared at him for a moment. Then he blurted out, his words tumbling over each other as if afraid they would not get their chance at ever being heard if they waited. "The comm system is not broken."

"Excuse me?" He must have mis-heard.

"The comm system, Sir," Stephen repeated, more moderately paced now. "It is not broken. We lost contact, but the problem was not on our side."

Thoughts raced through his mind, almost too fast to consciously take note of them. Emotions warred within him as he tried to make sense of what he heard. "You're saying…"

The younger man looked at him, pinning him with a stare that was equal parts desperation and deliberation. "I'm saying that we do not know what you will find when you get back home."

Without another word, he turned, striding back out into the hallway, presumably to return to the camp outside and take up residence there with his wife for good. Because he did have a wife, right here with him, safely landed on this wonderful new world, while Larry was looking at a future more uncertain than ever.


	5. Chapter 5

"… and we'll be home within a few hours," the announcement came in a satisfied tone.

Larry's heart clenched as he heard the words. A few hours and he would finally know what had really happened.

After much deliberation, he had done exactly what Stephen had at first, and said nothing – not because it didn't change anything. It probably would have. He didn’t know that any of the others would have been willing to leave their newfound paradise if they had not been sure what waited for them back at home.

No, he had kept the information a secret because he had to go back. Maybe it was just some technical mess-up after all. Maybe they had exceeded some magical distance beyond which their communication system did not work and just hadn't known about it before.

In that case, contact should have been re-established a long time ago, when they got back in range.

Since they were operating under the assumption that it was their own system that was broken, no one had had reason to try, though.

He was relatively sure, however, that they would have gotten some kind of a signal from the comm station if it had picked up a signal from home.

Of course they might also have been considered lost by those at home, and that might explain the lack of communication attempts.

Of course there was absolutely no reason why something should have happened at home at the precise moment they were flying through that strange appearance.

Of course…

He could find plenty of options, but for some reason or another, none of them served to soothe his mind, or his heart. Something had gone wrong back there, somewhere, and they were just about to find out precisely what it was.

"Sensors in range," he heard. "Boy, they must have had some really odd weather in the last few months! Will you look at this?"

The screens showed data that his mind refused to make sense of.

He looked away, focusing on the navigator instead.

"Bring us down as soon as you can," he said. "Try to get us as close as possible to the hive, but don't risk anything. We can't tell them to clear the landing field after all."

That was it then. They were going down and they had no idea what they would find down there.

Their hive members, happy to see them back safely, ready to crowd into the leviathan and take off to follow?

Utter and complete destruction for whatever reason?

He forced himself not to think about it while he sat in his command chair, trying hard to relax to absorb the forces that acted on the ship as it entered the atmosphere and went down, eventually coming to rest on the ground again and could be felt even inside the isolated cabin. The more he tried to fight them, the more he would feel them. He knew that as well as everyone else.

Everyone else seemed to have far less trouble doing so, however.

They looked happy, radiant even, looking forward to their heroes' welcome.

He could only pray and hope that that was what they would get.


	6. Chapter 6

They touched down out of sight of the hive. It was the closest they had dared. The desert was hot as always, sandy and agitated by winds that seemed bent upon dislodging the scout from where it rested now. Even if the sun had been down – there was no way any of them would have been able to leave the scout in those winds, let alone make the trek to the hive.

Hours passed as Larry, growing increasingly restless, kept glancing at the instrument readings, hoping for the moment at which it was safe to venture outside as well as fearing it.

Strange, how quickly they had gotten used to simply getting up and walking through the door instead of painstakingly examining the displays for outdoor situation. It had never felt like the hardship that it did now.

Eventually, finally, the moment came.

They set down the rover vehicle, clambered in and set off for their destination. It would be the last time they would see the hive, they were sure.

"They should have sent someone to meet us by now," John pointed out when they had come about half-way. "They must have seen us come in and go down."

"Maybe they want to give us a proper welcome right back home," Larry suggested, but his blood ran cold. It would have been such a relief to have some of them come to meet them out here. No matter what, he would not be able to rest easy until he finally held his wife in his arms again. He glanced at his watch, wondering at how slowly time seemed to pass.

The rover took its own sweet time moving forward, too. Recent winds had blown in new dunes, and the loose sand inhibited progress even for the vehicle. He stared out the window, straining his eyes for the first hint of the protective dome that was their destination.

It was the leviathan that came into view first, and the moment it did, it became clear that all was not well.

The huge ship was tilting to one side, half-sunk into the ground at the bottom, its once-gleaming outer hull looking dull and weather-beaten. Even in its deteriorated shape, it still towered over the remainders of the dome, cracked and broken, with gaping holes where some of the sun-shield supports had broken away and crashed into the ground, taking with them bits of buildings and other structures.

No one seemed to have bothered to even try to clean it up.

Did that mean that there was no one left to do any cleaning up? Had they all moved elsewhere, found shelter in a different hive? Unlikely.

Staring in disbelief at the destruction they were seeing, they got out of the rover. The loose sand, blown in freshly by the recent storm, made them stagger as they picked their way towards what had once been their home.

Numbness enveloped Larry as he laid his hands against the once-transparent curved panels around the hive, now scratched and milky. Gone. They were all gone it seemed.

Elizabeth, their child – everyone. Wiped from the face of the planet while he was safe in the scout, racing to find a new home for them all and failing, because they had been too slow.

"Larry." That was John's voice, with an urgency in spite of the low tone in which he spoke.

The scout mission's captain turned, staring bleakly first at his navigator and then following the jerk of his head towards the drooping leviathan.

Dark shapes were detaching themselves from its base, moving slowly but expertly through the shifting dunes.

They were not alone here after all! The survivors had taken shelter in the big ship when the hive was destroyed!

With a sudden burst of energy, Larry launched himself forward through the sand, running as fast as the uncertain footing would permit him, towards the figures approaching them. New hope blossomed inside him. If there were survivors, then his wife and child could still be safe. They could—

He had known all the hive members at least by sight when they had left. Most of them, he had known better than that. That was a natural consequence of living in close quarters all your lives.

The man approaching him now was a stranger, dressed in a loose, hooded coat of rough material, apparently sewn together from pieces of other, older pieces that had been discarded. His face showed the signs of old burns or too much exposure to the sun. He slowed his approach warily.

Others appeared behind him, men and women, dressed in similarly haphazard clothing and looking equally weathered. They were carrying assortments of weapons, most of them crude pieces cobbled together like their clothing.

Larry felt his companions move in behind him, coming to stand protectively at either side of him.

The others did not venture a greeting.

"What happened here?" Larry finally asked outright, uncertain of how else to commence conversation. These were not his own hive members but he also could not imagine that any other hive would leave their people with nothing but a broken space ship for shelter.

The other man cocked his head slightly at him.

"Just a normal sandstorm," he said. His voice sounded hoarse and somewhat strained. "They're common here. You are…" Eyes that looked uncannily familiar this close up moved up and down Larry's body, his neat, tight-fitting protective combination and boots. "Travelers?"

"Not exactly," Larry said. "I meant – what happened to the hive?"

A shrug was his only answer at first. After a moment of silence, the man offered: "It was destroyed long before I was born. It is not something talked about much. It doesn’t matter. There is no way to repair it." The disinterest in his voice was jarring, as if he didn't care the least bit that the only thing that had protected the society that had lived here from the furious environment was gone.

But he had spoken of long before he had been born. Had they come to the wrong place entirely? It would have been easy to convince themselves of that. Deserts had a way of shifting, looking alike one day and entirely different the next. If their instruments had been off -- 

On the other hand, there was the leviathan standing right there in the sand, and the buildings inside what was left of the hive, though badly demolished, had a familiar look to them.

"You never tried to _do_ anything?" John blurted out to Larry's right. "This place is going to kill you all sooner or later!"

"Some sooner, some later," the man agreed. "We know. There are precious few left here as it is. Our resources are draining, so if you're a raiding party," he smiled a cold, mirthless smile. "You're wasting your energy here."

"We're not a raiding party," Larry hurried to assure him, realizing as he said it that the man was not concerned about it. In spite of their being armed and looking ready to defend themselves, it appeared that he, at least, had accepted death as a certainty that lay in his immediate future.

Actually, going by the near unnoticeable flicker that died in the man's eyes at his announcement, he almost suspected that he had been hoping that they were, come to maybe dispense a quick death instead of the long lingering as scarce resources petered out and left the survivors to starve or perish slowly in some other way.

Larry's thoughts went on, pondering a different scenario. All of this may have been a trap, the strangers assaulting the hive and going to ground here in case someone came looking. If their ragtag appearance was an act, it was a good one, but it certainly was a possibility.

Only then why hadn't they been relieved of their things and their rover already? They were outnumbered, with at least five strangers that he could see outside now and who knew how many still in the leviathan.

"As I said, it wouldn't matter," the man said flatly. "The hive, before it went down, put all their resources into that thing there." He motioned vaguely towards the leviathan. "To escape this forsaken planet while they still could. The story goes that they sent a scouting party out to find a new place for them to live – only it never returned. Got blown to pieces out there, I assume, or maybe they found a place to live happily and simply forgot about everyone back here. Or maybe it's just a nice tale to tell the children when they can't sleep because the sand scraping on the outside of the hull sounds like demon feet. Doesn't matter either."

Larry scrutinized the ship-turned-shelter. That was their leviathan alright – he could see some remnants of the lettering on the hull even, if only because he knew what to look for, worn as it was by sand and wind.

He was interrupted by the man's laugh, a grating, harsh sound. "You know what? It's only two weeks ago that we had a little celebration in memory of the centennial of that scouting party leaving. To celebrate those brave souls who sacrificed themselves for everyone's good – and for nothing. It's a way to pass the time, at least."

Centennial? A hundred years since then? Pieces clicked into place. Their drive had worked, he knew that – they had held contact for several months of travelling after all. It must have been that anomaly they had passed that had thrown them out of their time. He blinked back tears as he thought of the despair that those back at home must have felt, that Elizabeth must have felt, when they had suddenly gone silent, never to be heard from again.

"They haven't," he said after a long moment of silence. He felt his companions move in closer. "It's not just a tale to tell at bed-time, and they aren't happily living on another planet without a thought for those left behind." He took a deep, shuddering breath as he met the man's incredibly blue eyes steadily – Eyes so like Elizabeth's in that sun-ravaged face that he may well have been looking at his own descendant. "We are the scouting party."

He waited for the statement to sink in.

It didn't for the longest time. After what felt like hours of silent staring, even though it could hardly have been more than a minute, the other man finally repeated, incredulously: " _You_ are thescouting party?"

Larry nodded. "Not all of it, of course. Since we couldn't reach anyone via the comm-link anymore, we sent back a small crew to bring the news of a planet that we have found. It's a newborn world, untouched and safe for us to live. We … did not expect this."

He extended a hand. "My name is Larry. I was – I am – the captain of the Scout, which is landed not too far from here."

His hand was taken, the other man's palm hard and cracked, his fingers feeling like sandpaper. Larry knew that once, his own hands had looked not much different, from constant exposure to too-dry air, dust and sand. He realized that he had never noticed just how much the time spent in the controlled atmosphere on the ship and then the weeks planet-side had left their mark on their bodies already.

Caught up in his thoughts, he very nearly missed the reply.

"So is mine. A family tradition, you see. My great-grandfather supposedly was on the ship they sent." Was that shame in the other man's eyes? 

Well, he figured that he would feel ashamed, too, if he had gone on for who knew how many years harboring resentment against that long-ago ancestor who took a ship off-planet with a score of men and women, never to return, leaving behind and abandoning a pregnant wife and unborn child – and then finally found himself facing that same ancestor.

Following a sudden impulse, Larry stepped forward and reached out for the other man – realizing that from the looks of it, he was actually the younger one of the two of them –, barely refraining from pulling him into an embrace between family members.

He didn't need to either, for the other one closed the remaining gap, and for a moment they stood in silence before parting again.

"How many men and women are still living here?" Captain Larry asked.

His namesake blinked at the sudden change of topic, then answered. "This part of civilization will surely end with us. We are twelve, and no children born in two decades."


	7. Chapter 7

Larry sat on the porch of the miniature hive he had built for himself in the new world, using parts from the disassembled scout. They didn't need the ship anymore – they were here to stay after all – and breaking it down to use the pieces for resources had come as a natural consequence. He had no idea, of course, if this was the kind of 'porch' that he had read about in books about times long past, but he liked the word, and he used it, and so did everyone else.

The celebration was in full swing, another year passed on this incredibly rich, new world that held so much in store for them, so much to be discovered and to be learned.

Not all of those years had been exclusively good. They had lost three of their number – one to a disease unknown to them and the others to the wild animals that roamed the forests and the plains.

They would certainly still have been among the very last of their race, 29 adults being far too few to establish a colony, the genetic pool too small.

Nevertheless, their numbers were increasing. Women were conceiving that much more easily in this healthier environment. Engineered compatibility with the natives – originally considered merely an interesting oddity to play with in their minds – had become a viable alternative.

As the natives had started to approach them, curiously, cautiously, with awe and submission as if they were gods – in a way, he assumed, they were, come from the skies, with so much more to offer than these simple minds could have had on their own – some of the men had taken to native women. A few of those were now living in the settlement with them, as second and third wives – their situation did not bear the restrictions of monogamy if they wanted any chance of survival at all –, slowly learning the basics of their language. They would never grow beyond a rudimentary grasp of it, but they were well enough suited to simple labor, helping out around the small family hives and doing farm work. Their offspring of mixed race had more of their alien traits than of the native ones – they made sure of that.

One thing that remained uncertain was what they would do when the fuel they needed to operate their machines and devices ran out. Already, they were trying to limit their use as far as possible to save it. This world, so rich in other resources, seemed to lack some of the vital substances that powered their technology. They were looking into alternative sources, but it was starting to become clear that they would need to start over from a much more primitive level all too soon.

Still, even a primitive life in this place was preferable by far to the life they had had at home.

They had space here – all space they might want. Each couple had built its own dedicated miniature hive, claiming space for themselves that would have housed thirty or more back home. Food was available in abundance. Rain continued to be a miracle to be enjoyed, and would, more often than not, see them outside, marveling at the sheer miracle of having water come down from the skies.

Snow was equally miraculous, though less enjoyable.

With a silent smile, Larry watched as his great-grandson, barely three years old, clambered up the steps towards him, ready to share the prize of berries and tree fruit he had collected in a small basket. Even without understanding why it was so very special, the fascination with being able to go out and collect sweet foods for your living permeated even the youngest of their community.

The sun was just about to go down, the warm day giving way to a comfortably cool evening. Down in the square between their housings, now devoid of grass, Louis was getting ready to dance, accompanied by his mate's incredible voice. The man's body, still maintaining the supple litheness that he would have long lost back at home, moved in the red hues of the setting sun, mesmerizing not only his lover.

The former captain's eyes slowly moved over the gathered crowd as he graciously accepted the gift of fruit and sent the child back on his way.

All those couples, happy to be united in this new, safe haven that they had found to make a home in.

He sighed, raising his eyes to the sky, unable to quench the sadness that overcame him every time he was reminded that his wife had died, alone in that forsaken desert hive, not knowing if he had abandoned her or been killed.

He hoped that she had not believed, even for a moment, that he had deliberately chosen not to return, but it was hard to convince himself of that.

For the rest of his life, he would stay as alone as she had died. Oh, he’d do his duty and pass on his seed and his genes, fertilizing native women to produce the offspring they so desperately needed to build a real colony here. But another marriage was not in his future.

As he looked back down into the square, his gaze was met by those of several of the men and women there, their smiles beckoning, hands waving for him to come join them.

A wife he may never have again, but he certainly had a family.

With a resolute smile of his own, he got up and descended the steps to join them.


End file.
